


In For A Pound

by grumpygrahams



Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Reader Insert, Weight Shaming, sorta - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-07
Updated: 2015-01-07
Packaged: 2018-03-06 12:17:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3134186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grumpygrahams/pseuds/grumpygrahams
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal catches you looking at yourself in the mirror.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In For A Pound

     Your hands gently cup your stomach, frowning at yourself in the mirror, the harsh lights cutting any shadows, any angles, making you see every single pound that you have. And you hate it. You turn, touch your fingers against your hip, pressing down until you could feel the bone, but also the tender flesh between. Sometimes, you wished, you could be a little skinner. A few pounds less to fit into the status quo.

 

     With a sigh you dropped your hands and looked down, bending slightly to see the edge of your toes. You weren’t overly pounded, but it was enough to spur you on diet after diet. And it just plain sucked.

 

      Movement out of the corner of your eye caused you to turned and you saw Hannibal watching you, deep eyes filled with a kind of disappointment. Three months you have lived with him. Three months of his food. His care. The circumstances didn’t matter of why you were here, they were what they were. Unstable patient. Supervision required.

 

      “What are you doing?” His accent seemed thick. It caused the panic to well in your chest, your hands taking your shirt and covering yourself. It earned you a frown.

 

      “Just…looking.”

 

      But he already knew what you were doing. What you meant. What your eyes had seen and what your thoughts produced. Bad fruit.

 

      “Come.” He uncrossed his arms and he left his perch.

 

      As always, on his command, you followed. He lead you up the stairs, past the guest room where you stayed and into his own room, waiting for you to enter before he gently closed the door behind the both of you. You have only been inside his room a few times, and only to fetch him something he may have forgotten. His iPad, his shoes, mediocre things. But now being in here with him the bedroom took on a foreign feeling. More intimate somehow.

 

      “Come here.” He sat on his bed, knees spread wide, hands resting on them. Your hesitation made his lips thin, his eyes beacon you closer. You took soft steps until you stood between his knees, watching him carefully. Unsure.

 

      His hands lifted to your hips, fingers stroking against the soft upturn of your stomach, the slope between your hip and thigh, the curve only the pounds could give.

 

      “Do you know why I keep you?” He whispered, his hands moving higher, hands cupping your sides, thumbs stroking across your stomach, the fullness of flesh. You close your eyes, embarrassed. He has not appreciated you this way before. It has always been light kisses on the cheek, small hugs, tucking yourself into his arm as he read. Never this.

      “I keep you because of your mind.” He continued, his hands lifting your shirt up and over your head, leaving you naked before him again, nipples hardening from the cool air of his room, the cool gaze of his eyes. “Because I appreciate you for more than your body.” His hands slip beneath your breasts, holding the heat of them in the cup of his thumb and pointer finger, feeling the weight of them. The fold of skin. The red mark that gravity gave.

 

      “Because your thoughts are beautiful and unique.” He leaned forward and press his lips against the curve of your belly, repeating upwards until they found refuge between your breasts, inhaling deeply. You had read, once, that every woman had a scent unique to their own bodies between their breasts. A scent.

 

      And he inhaled it.

 

     “Because I believe you are so much more than your body. So much more than flesh.”

 

     You wanted to scream at him. Yell that he is beautiful, both body and mind, and that he should have no right to say these things to you. That he didn’t understand the damage of the pounds. What they told you. But you kept it in, kept the words in and they all but turned to tears, the trails leaving stains upon your cheeks.

 

      But he continued to kiss you through your embarrassment.

 

      “My precious little one.” He nuzzled the side of your neck, teeth scraping along the tender skin, his tongue licking a wet stripe to your ear. “My beautiful girl.”

 

     His hands slid down, curling around your hips, fingers pressing in. Fat tissue. Flesh. Muscle. Then bone. You felt him smile before he bit down on your shoulder, the meeting of your neck and shoulder.

 

     “You are mine. And everything I own is flawless. Priceless. So do not lie to yourself when you think you are anything less.”

 

      He pulls you closer, you skin making a hiss against the fabric of his suit. He pulls you down, into his lap, and guides your legs to part so you are straddling his hips. It was shocking to find him hard against your thigh.

 

     “Hannibal-“

 

      He tilted your head forward, lips finally meeting yours. Finally taking the claim. It was sweet, light, and so very wrong.

 

      But it was how you found yourself appreciating your own beauty just a little bit more.


End file.
